


Rules of Engagement

by Kaye_Fraser



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2018-12-30 07:37:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12103884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaye_Fraser/pseuds/Kaye_Fraser
Summary: After one too many publicized scandals, Magnus is in danger of losing the company he has worked so hard to build.  To keep it, he must convince his board of directors that he's a sensible, reliable person who can stay out of the tabloids, at least for a few months.  So, what better way to repair his reputation than to hire a random - albeit handsome - stranger to be a nice pretend boyfriend?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, 
> 
> This last round, Shadowhunters AU Mondays posted the theme of'fake dating', which has got to be one of my most guilty pleasure tropes. And so, alas, this happened.
> 
> I've got a brief blurb about where this story came from on tumblr (https://kayefraser.tumblr.com/) if you're interested in any of my personal notes, but if not, please feel free to just dive right into the story!
> 
> Happy reading!
> 
> Cheers,  
> K.

_Rules of Engagement_  
_Chapter 1_

(***) 

_'Audentis Fortuna Iuvat'_  
     - _Latin Proverb (Translation: 'Fortune Favors the Bold')_

(***) 

5:14pm. 

Alec tucked his phone back in his pocket, and quickly buttoned up his vest. He had forty-six minutes to make it to the hotel. It would be tight, but if he ran, and if the subway connections worked out, he would make it. He dug into his messenger bag and rustled around for the clip-on bowtie he had tossed in there that morning. Damn it! It was funny – or not funny – how when things were rushed, he was just that much clumsier and the simplest things took way longer to do. 

With a grunt of frustration, he shifted his bag around, and finally felt the polyester material tangle in his fingers. Success! He quickly pulled the thing out, and clipped it to his neatly starched collar. He made a mental note to straighten it later when he started his shift. Satisfied that he'd gotten a majority of his uniform on, he grabbed his wool pea coat and bag, and darted out of the deli's back room. 

There were a few stragglers from the end-of-day rush still waiting to order at the front counter, but Tony could easily handle it. Normally, Alec didn't mind staying an extra half hour or so to help out, but today was a bad day for it. He hadn't expected a late shift at his other job tonight, and the extra ten minutes he'd already stayed had put him behind schedule. 

"See you tomorrow, Tony." Alec waved as he rushed by the portly, middle-aged deli owner. 

Tony nodded a goodbye before turning to the next customer in line with a big, toothy smile. Antonio Marrelli was as jovial as he was generous. When Alec had ended up in front of his shop two years ago, desperate for work, the man had seen beyond the down-on-his-luck twenty-one year old with no experience, and had recognized the steely determination underneath. Perhaps Tony, having come from a family of blue collar Italian immigrants, had seen something of himself in Alec – namely, the willingness to work, and work hard for what he got. Whatever it was, Tony had never asked about the dull, defeated look in his eyes: he'd simply offered Alec the job, and Alec would forever be grateful for the opportunity. 

The chill of the early spring evening shocked Alec's system as he stepped out from the warm coziness of the shop. There would be rain tonight; he could smell it in the air. Giving the darkening clouds a warning – but futile – glare, he shrugged on his jacket, slid his bag across his body, and broke out into a slow jog. 

New York was a busy city. There was a constant flow about it: people always moving, and cars streaming by in a non-stop tableau of motion and sound. And although he hadn't grown up in the thick of it all, Alec had found that he could navigate it quite well. He expertly dodged around slower moving pedestrians, and the scattered road and sidewalk furniture as he made his way to the nearest subway station. He mentally calculated that it had taken him three minutes to get to Franklin Ave, tops, and not to toot his own horn or anything, but he was quite proud of the record time. He practically flew down the stairs, tapped his MetroCard, and made it to the platform just as the 4-train arrived. Apparently, the subway gods were smiling down on him. He breathed out with relief as the doors eased closed, and the train pulled away. 

The car itself wasn't packed, but it was filled enough that he opted to stand. He didn't mind. When he'd first moved here, the novelty of the big city had thrilled him. The undimming lights, the frenetic energy, just the vibrancy of life in general had filled a part of him he hadn't known had been missing. True, it had been a little overwhelming at first, but he'd always been a good observer and a quick learner, and he'd adjusted to this fast-paced environment better than most. 

And so, as the train rocked along, he took out the energy bar that would be his dinner and people-watched. Subway riders were often an eclectic bunch. Today, there was the teenager with those oversized headphones, the exhausted office worker with the loosened tie, and the mom with an armload of groceries and a fussy child. Alec absently wondered where he would fit into all of it if someone were to observe him as he was observing others. He wasn't a kid anymore, nor did he see himself tied to a nine-to-five job just yet, and family – well, that was complicated. He had his siblings, but ... 

His thoughts trailed off. He was content enough where he was, he supposed. He had a purpose. What else did he need? Working the jobs as he did, he'd been saving up for school. His scrimping and saving the last few years had put him in a good position to maybe go back this year, provided he got accepted, of course. He was moving forward, and that was what counted. 

The train pulled into his stop about twenty minutes later, and Alec darted out the moment the doors slid open. He stalled somewhat on the stairs with the last of the rush hour crowd moving along as one slow mass, but when he made it street level, he broke out into a full-on run. The several blocks to the hotel passed by in a blur, tall buildings, urban greenery, and flashing traffic lights all blending into an unrecognizable smear. By the time he slipped through the service entrance of Langham Place, he was out of breath and sweating profusely. On the flip side though, he had a whole four minutes to spare. 

"Hey, Lightwood, cutting it close, aren't you?" a familiar voice said as he was busily stuffing his bag and jacket into a staffroom locker. 

Alec quickly ran his fingers through his hair, and straightened his clip-on bowtie. "Hey, Lydia. Yeah, sorry, got stuck at my other job longer than I'd planned." He turned and smoothed out his black-and-white uniform. "So, Sherry give out the assignments yet? I got called in for some private function." 

Lydia came up beside him, and tucked her phone into her locker. Her blonde hair was neatly pulled back, her barely-there make-up was immaculately applied, and her uniform, as always, was wrinkle-free. It was no wonder Alec always felt a little inadequate next to her. He considered himself lucky if he remembered to launder his work clothes. 

"Yeah, there's some corporate party up in the Kips Suite. I've got the bar tonight. I think you're on the floor." Trust Lydia to be on top of everything. Alec had met her over a year ago when they'd both been hired at the same time. He considered her a friend – somewhat – although their relationship was mainly limited to their interactions at work. She was nice enough, and they got along professionally, making easy small talk during their breaks, but that was the extent of it. He never really pried into her personal life, and she returned the favor. 

Alec nodded. "Okay, shall we go earn our daily bread then?" He held out his hand in an exaggerated gesture for her to precede him, pretending to be a gallant gentleman of old. 

Lydia gave him a small smirk, humor lighting her eyes, and squared her shoulders. ''Yes, let's. Another day, another dollar." 

And with that, they headed out of the staffroom and up to the party. 

(***) 

He needed an escape plan. Magnus looked around the foyer as he walked to the far corner, and took a slow, steadying breath when he saw that it was relatively empty. Almost everyone was inside the ballroom, but more importantly, _she_ was still inside the ballroom. Stopping by the floor-to-ceiling windows, he pretended to admire the Manhattan skyline as he gathered his thoughts. 

He was a man who prided himself on being quite adept at avoiding messy romantic entanglements: have his fun, enjoy the moment, ensure the other party was equally satisfied, and then move on. His modus operandi had worked well for years. Now, unfortunately, Camille had thrown the metaphorical wrench into his plans. 

He closed his eyes, and sighed quietly. He'd tried breaking it off with her – had tried four times in fact, the last time with a Harry Winston diamond even – yet for some reason, their odd love-hate relationship always brought her back to him. He just wasn't in the mood for the fifth attempt to be tonight. He needed to get out of here, but the head of the company hosting this whole function couldn't just up and leave. Besides, he'd never hear the end of it from Ragnor. 

A clink of glass from behind startled him into opening his eyes. The evening had darkened enough to turn the window into a quasi-mirror, and using the reflection, he noted one of the servers collecting several abandoned drinks onto a tray. He watched silently as the man did his job, swift efficient motions with an air that seemed practiced at blending into the background. Suddenly, his brain began to form an idea. It wasn't a brilliant one, but it was enough to give him a temporary reprieve. 

"Excuse me," he said as he turned around. He took a step toward the man, but froze when the server looked up at him. 

A mess of dark hair offset pale skin and one of the most disturbingly handsome faces Magnus had ever seen. Wide, hazel eyes looked at him inquiringly. "Sir? Can I help you?" the server prompted. 

Magnus gave himself a mental shake. Right, he had actual business to take care of. Contrary to popular belief, he could be serious when he needed to be, even if there was a pretty face involved. "Yes, I think you can," he answered as he continued to close the gap between them. "Now, this might sound a bit … unconventional, but I need you to spill a drink on me. Accidentally, of course." 

"What?" 

For some reason, the confusion in the man's expression was quite endearing. "No right now," Magnus explained. "There's a woman in a red dress, long hair, brunette, drop dead gorgeous, who'll probably corner me tonight. I need you to maybe walk by and accidentally spill something on me. That'll be the excuse I need to get out of here and clean up." 

"But I don't spil–" The server stopped, and blinked several times at him. Then, "So wait, let me get this straight. You want me to watch you all night, and when I see a woman in a red dress talk to you, I'm supposed to walk by and pour a drink on you?" 

"Well, pretend to trip or something, and make it look like an accident. You know, sell it a bit." When the man continued to stare at him, clueless, Magnus added, "There'll be a hundred dollars in it for you. It'll be easy money." 

After another second of indecision, the server gave him a subtle nod and resumed his cleaning. Magnus had had a feeling that money might've been a deciding factor. It usually was. He smiled inwardly, quite pleased with his plan. "Come find me at the end of the night, and I'll settle my tab," he said quietly as he walked away. 

(***) 

There were some in this world that Alec would never understand. Case in point: why would a man pay him one hundred dollars to spill a drink on him, especially when said man was wearing a tuxedo that likely cost the whole of what Alec had earned last year? He was coming to the conclusion that beautiful people were strange. 

And the guy was beautiful. There was no doubt about that. Alec may have been good at being unnoticed, but he wasn't blind. Black hair streaked with cobalt blue, dark eyes perfectly lined, and a well-tailored tux framing broad shoulders and a trim waist – Alec had to try hard not to stare. But beyond the physical, there was something else – a confidence, an almost devil-may-care attitude – that drew not only his attention, but everyone else's in the room. And Alec could only admire something like that from afar as he walked amongst the party guests serving drinks. 

He remembered to check on the mystery guy every ten minutes or so, ensuring the man wasn't near any woman with a red dress, and trying as best he could to uphold his end of the bargain. It wasn't until he did a quick rotation again in the foyer about two hours after their initial encounter that Alec caught sight of a particularly head-turning red dress. He didn't know much about designers or figure flattering cuts or anything, but he could tell the woman in that red dress was breathtaking. Plenty of male gazes followed those swaying hips and sultry eyes as she crossed the room. She stopped by the windows … right beside Alec's temporary employer. 

Shit, act casual, Alec reminded himself as he slowly made his way over. He prided himself on doing his job, and doing it well, so he'd never spilled anything before, least of all on purpose. He looked down at his serving tray, and noticed that was still had two full glasses of champagne on hand. Perfect! 

"Look, Camille, we can't keep doing this. I – " 

That was all Alec heard from his impromptu employer as he approached before he lifted one of the full flutes off his tray and tilted it more than he had to. Careful to keep the whole tray balanced, he quickly pulled the glass back once it'd emptied onto his target. 

The woman in red gasped audibly. "Oh my god, Magnus! Are you okay?" 

Alec stepped back, and slipped out the cloth napkin he'd tucked in his belt. "I'm so sorry, sir," he gushed as he offered it to the stranger. "I don't know what happened. I just –" 

The other man took the cloth without a word, but Alec caught a subtle glint of gratitude in those dark eyes. He started to dab some of the champagne off the expensive material of his tux. "It's perfectly alright. It was an accident."  
  


"No, Magnus, it isn't. It's totally not alright," the woman – Camille – declared. She turned toward Alec. "I don't think you understand who you just spilled the drink on. It's completely unacceptable. What's your name? Who's your manager?" 

Alec stepped back, not expecting the aggression. "Sor – " 

"Camille, that's enough!" Until now, Alec had avoided looking directly at the man, Magnus. The less eye contact he made, the less chance he had of giving away the ruse. But the firm tone with which Magnus spoke had Alec looking at him in surprise. 

"You are not going to do anything," Magnus continued, ice in his words. "I am going to go home, and clean up. And you, you're going to go back to the party, do whatever it is you do at these things, and then, leave. I will not be contacting you after this, nor will you be contacting me. Is that clear?" 

"Magnus, I – " 

"Is. That. Clear?" 

Alec had to hand it to the man. The tone even caused him to quiver a bit in fear. 

Camille stood still, eyes wide with shock. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. When she didn't response after several seconds, Magnus started to walk away. 

And Alec, seeing his opportunity to discreetly sneak out of the whole scene before suffering any additional fallout, followed suit. He kept his pace as normal as possible as he made his escape back into the ballroom, breathing a little easier now that his role in that odd set-up was done. He had to give it to that Magnus though: insofar as break-ups went, it was one of the harsher ones he'd witnessed. 

(***) 

That had gone off on an unexpected tangent, Magnus thought as he strode through the hotel lobby. Granted, it ended up where he'd wanted it – better even – although he'd rarely had to act so cold when breaking off any of his relationships. It was indeed different, but he didn't regret it. 

"Magnus, I need to talk to you!" 

Magnus stopped and looked longingly at the main doors. He'd been so damn close. With a resigned breath, he turned to greet the familiar voice with a sour expression. He'd known Ragnor a long time, and he wasn't going to hide his mood behind a fake mask with the man. 

"Whatever it is, I'm not in the mood right now," he said grumpily, arms crossed as the long-time Chief Operating Officer of his company approached. 

Ragnor returned his look with an even darker one that his own. "Well, you'll just have to be. Come on, let go find a private spot in the bar," he gestured to the far side of the lobby. "I've got some bad news." 

In Magnus' experience, all news was bad news in Ragnor's eyes, but that didn't ease the sudden concern Magnus felt as he followed the other man into the lounge. 

Much like the rest of the hotel's amenities, the bar was an elegant mix of contemporary design and straightforward functionality. The neutral tans, browns and whites blended quite well with the glass, quartz, and paneled wood décor, and gave the patrons an atmosphere of calmness and relaxation. The two of them managed to find a quiet booth in the corner that was far enough from the public eye. They'd both sat down and ordered a couple of drinks before Magnus turned to his companion with a hard stare. 

"So, what's so important that you had to chase me down in the middle of the company party?" 

"They want you out." 

Magnus stared at his friend for a moment, not completely comprehending the statement. Ragnor was never one to mince words, but this needed some context. "Sorry, come again. Who's 'they'? And out of what?" 

"The board of directors. They want you out of the company. After the last tabloid scandal, your credibility is almost non-existent with them. They've lost confidence in you, and I have it on good authority you'll likely be voted out at their next meeting." 

Magnus shifted in his seat, and tried to temper his anger at the Ragnor's statement. "But that's in five months." 

Ragnor nodded. "Before the fourth quarter." 

"But we've posted gains for the last three consecutive quarters. I built this company from the ground up, and as long as we're making money, what do they care about what I do in my own time?" 

Ragnor let out a long-suffering sigh – and an exaggerated one, at that – before pinning Magnus down with a hard glare. Magnus felt like a kid trying to justify why he'd absolutely needed that cookie from the cookie jar. "But since we've gone public, everything you do reflects on the company and determines whether the shareholders invest their money with us." 

Magnus pursed his lips, and held back a retort. Part of him wanted to tell said directors and investors to go screw themselves, but he knew deep down that wouldn't get him anywhere. This was his company, and there was no way in hell he'd let some stuffy old men and women who probably hadn't gotten laid in decades take it away from him. Instead, he asked, "So what do you suggest I do?" 

"Keep your name out of the gossip and media sites for starters. That last debacle you had with that girl – what's her name, Callie or Cara or – " 

"Camille." 

"Camille. That last debacle you guys had at the movie premiere, it's still being re-blogged and retweeted and whatever else the kids do nowadays. It's not helping your case." 

Magnus looked away. "You won't have to worry about her anymore, if that's any comfort," he stated plainly. 

"Good. Right now, you need to give off an appearance of stability and reliability. Stay as far away from this unpredictable playboy reputation as you can." 

"So live like a monk?" Magnus raised an eyebrow at his companion. "That's a steep price to pay, my friend." 

Ragnor ignored Magnus' mocking attitude. "If you must." 

Magnus opened his mouth to argue back, but their drinks arrived just then. The moment gave them both a chance to cool off and regroup. Ragnor took a small sip of his drink, while Magnus down almost half the scotch in his glass with a single gulp. The prospect of losing a company he'd struggled the last decade to build definitely called for it. His pride reared its ugly head at him being told what to do by a group of people who'd never known a second of true struggle their entire lives. 

"Look, Magnus," Ragnor continued. "What I'm saying is, watch what you do in the next five months. Take the big business trip you had originally planned. Do the whole international circuit, make nice with all our offshore offices, and get the board behind you again. And if you must cultivate a relationship, just stick with one person, at least until the vote. Maybe by then, you would've changed their minds." 

With the alcohol in his system, Magnus found a bit of humor in the situation. He smiled lopsidedly, and made a sound of amusement. "I didn't realize 'spin doctor' was in your job description, Ragnor." 

The older man gave him a sidelong glance. "It isn't, but I always assumed 'friend' was, and that's why I'm telling you all this." 

Well, shit, how was he supposed to respond to that? Magnus stared at his drink, and sloshed the amber liquid around in the glass for a few seconds. The absurdity of it all didn't agree with him, but he knew the reality of his situation. He'd known it the moment he'd made the decision to take the company in the direction he did. And so, with a heavy breath and slumping shoulders, he said, "Okay, Ragnor. I'll do what I can." 

There was a brief second where Ragnor's expression softened ever so slightly, but soon, that usual serious demeanor reasserted itself. "Thanks, Magnus," he said as he stood. "I'll do what I can on my side." He took one more sip of his drink before nodding his goodbye and leaving. 

Magnus let out a muted chuckle as he watched his friend walk away. Smart man, he mused as he glanced down at the abandoned glass; Ragnor had left him with the bill. He leaned over and poured the excess into his own glass. It would be a crime to let a good scotch go to waste. 

He sat back and nursed his drink for a while, staring sightlessly around the lounge. It seemed rather funny that his life would eventually lead back to this: him, alone, with nothing but a drink in hand. He'd learned at a young age that he was not a fan of his own thoughts, that being alone with them led him down a path for which he did not care. Being in the company of others, always having someone around, it saved him from that. And yet, what Ragnor was asking of him forced him to go back there. It pitted the dream he'd worked so hard to achieve against the thing he hated the most: loneliness. 

Fuck them, he screamed internally. Fuck them, and their Ivy League education, and their hypocritical noses, and even their stupid dogs. If they weren't a necessary evil, he would've gotten rid of them a long time ago. 

"Hey, you okay?" 

Magnus looked up. It took a moment for him to realize who the tall stranger standing by his booth was, but when he finally recognized the helpful server from earlier, he mustered up a pleasant smile. "I'm fine. Why? Am I giving off that bad a vibe?" 

A corner of the man's lips quirked up ever so slightly, and Magnus found that to be one of the most charming expressions he'd ever seen. In fact, with that fake bowtie gone, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, and the black vest open, Magnus had to admit the guy was pretty sexy – in that Gone with the Wind heart palpitation sort of way. "Well, you are drinking alone in a bar after just breaking up with your girlfriend," the man said. 

"She's was never my girlfriend." Magnus didn't know why, but he felt a need to make that clarification. Camille was … she was… well, he wasn't completely sure what she was to him. 

If the man was surprised by his declaration, he didn't show it. He glanced behind him at the empty lounge, and then back. "Last call was five minutes ago, and you didn't look like you were anywhere near finished moping, so I thought I'd come in to check on you. I was just passing by, heading off shift." 

"Last call?" Magnus checked his watch. It was almost eleven-thirty. "Shit, I hadn't realized it was that late," he muttered as he straightened and dug for his wallet. As he slipped out his credit card to settle the tab, he remembered his earlier promise. Deftly, he pulled out a one-hundred dollar bill along with his card. "Sorry, I almost forgot. As promised, for a job well done," he said as he handed the money over. 

Magnus may have been mistaken, but the man hesitated for a millisecond before taking the offered cash. He quickly slipped it into his pocket. "Thank you. I – I hope everything works out for you." 

"Thanks. I do too," Magnus returned, although the prospect of winning over his board of directors seemed a monumental task at the moment. 

The server stood awkwardly for a moment before he turned and started to leave. It was then, as Magnus stared at the broad back of the other man, that the most outrageous idea struck him. "Hey," he called out. "How would you like to make some more money? I mean, a lot more." 

The man paused and looked over his shoulder at him, confusion written in his expression. 

"I've got a business proposition for you," Magnus added. He was just mentally formulating the details in his head himself, but he'd acted on half-formed plans before, and it'd gotten him fairly far. "I'd like to offer you a job. A temporary one. About five months. Interested?" 

The server stepped back, and Magnus gestured for him to take a seat. "What kind of job?" the man asked cautiously. 

Magnus pulled a business card from his wallet, and reached into his jacket for a pen. "I need a … companion for the next five months. Someone to travel and be seen in public with on a regular basis." 

Without a word, the man started to stand again. "Sorry, I'm not that kind of guy," he said in a neutral tone. 

Magnus arched a brow as he jotted down some numbers onto the back of his business card. "What? Gay? Could've fooled me when you checked me out at the party earlier," he noted without looking up. 

"I didn't – " 

"A hundred thousand per month." Magnus slid the card over while the other man stilled and stared at the thing like it was going to bite him. 

"F-five hundred thousand?" Those hazel eyes then looked at Magnus like he'd lost his mind. And perhaps he had. Perhaps he should check himself into the nearest psychiatric facility and wallow in his madness. He could laugh at himself later. 

"Yes, half a million for five months to be a pretend boyfriend of sorts, for appearances only, nothing else. I need to win back the confidence of my board of directors, so I'm just looking for someone who can show them I'm both stable and committed. After that, you walk away with the money, and I keep my company. No strings attached," Magnus explained. When the man didn't say anything – simply sat there with his eyes wide and mouth slightly opened – Magnus took pity on the guy. He supposed not everyone was used to his odd boardroom tactics. "Take some time, and think about it. My number is on the card. Give me a shout with your answer once you've weighed the offer. I can get an official contract made up later, if that gives you any peace of mind." 

Magnus slid his business card all the way across the table, and his companion had no other option but to take it. He did so mechanically, and tucked it into the same pocket where he'd put the cash earlier. 

"Look, I don't think this job is for me," the man finally said, standing up again. "But thank you for the offer." 

Magnus watched the server, his gaze unwavering. It was something he often did in his business dealings that usually unnerved his opponents into doing what he wanted. Strangely enough, the other man wasn't as bothered by it, or he didn't have the awareness to be bothered by it. Either way, the man walked away after a terse 'bye'. 

Magnus was amused by the whole thing, although he couldn't figure out why. He stood, and made his way over to the bar to pay for his drinks, all the while wondering what had been in his scotch that had caused him to concoct such a wild idea. 

One person, Ragnor had said. Magnus almost laughed out loud at what his old friend's reaction would be once he told him what he'd done. One person, so why not? 

(***) 

Alec popped the last bite of hot dog into his mouth as he kicked the apartment door closed and started shuffling through the mail. He was mildly disappointed at finding bills in the stack, but stopped mid-chew when a distinctive white logo of a particular culinary institute popped into view. His pulse sped up as he dropped everything – keys, bag, bills, napkin – onto the side table. Belatedly, he remembered to swallow. He hadn't been expecting anything from them so soon, but it definitely was a pleasant surprise, shaking fingers and sweating palms aside. After taking a moment to prepare himself for whatever the envelope held, he carefully opened the letter. 

His heartbeat pounded heavily in his ears as he scanned the contents, and before he knew it, a huge grin 

strained the muscles in his cheeks. 

He'd been accepted! He let out a small triumphant cry and plopped down on the couch with a smile plastered on his face. At that moment, he was sure someone could've told him the world was ending, and he would've still cheered. 

He stared up at the stained ceiling. Today had been a strange day. It had started off normal enough with his usual hours at the deli. But between the unexpected shift at the hotel, then getting the stupidest job offer of his life, and now this, the day had been a topsy-turvy rollercoaster of unexpected emotions. He thought back to the stranger at the party and the exchange they'd had. As if the ruse for the man's break-up wasn't enough, Alec couldn't believe any sane person would hire himself a boyfriend. That only happened in the movies, and the last time he checked, he looked nothing like Julia Roberts. He could only draw one conclusion when he'd left: the man had been drunk out of his mind and would likely forget everything tomorrow. 

The click of the door lock pulled him back to reality, and he sat up in time to see Isabelle walk in with Jace. 

"Hey, big brother. You still up?" Izzy asked as she collapsed onto the secondhand armchair. 

"Yeah, had an extra shift at the hotel. I just got home." He shifted over as Jace sat down on the couch next to him. He'd known Jace for a long time, had felt responsible for him when the blond had been adopted into the family, so the reserved way with which he moved and his tense posture set off alarms in Alec's head. "Why were you guys out so late?" he asked, opting to let Jace bring up whatever topic what on his mind first. 

Izzy shared a loaded look with Jace that Alec couldn't miss. Something was going on between the two, and his instincts were telling him it wasn't anything good. They'd been through much together, and he knew they had his back – insofar as following him to New York and facing the big city with him – so whatever the issue was, he had theirs as well. 

When several seconds passed and neither one of them answered, Alec gave up waiting. "What's wrong?" 

Isabelle shot Jace another look. "Tell him," she said. 

Ever since childhood, Jace had never shown any doubt or regret or guilt. His inherent confidence easily overcame all that, and it was a feat Alec only wished he could achieve. But there was something there now, in the crease that formed around his mouth and between his eyes. "I sort of owe some money to some not-so-good people," he explained, gaze downcast. 

Alec felt his lips thin, and he consciously tried to keep the exasperation from his voice. His siblings had done so much for him that he could at least hold the condemnation until he heard the whole story. "How much? And to whom?" 

Jace gave him a quick glance before focusing back on their worn out rug again. "Remember how I said I got a loan to start my personal training business last year?" 

Alec nodded. "Yes, from the bank." 

"No, you assumed it was from the bank, and I just never corrected you. What bank would lend that much money to a twenty-one year old?" 

For once, Jace had a valid point. To be honest, Alec had had his suspicions about it too when his brother had first mentioned it. Deep down, he understood it was likely his own willful ignorance that he'd convinced himself to believe in the assumption. It was the best way to ease his own guilt, to forget that his siblings had given up so much to stand by him. And selfishly, he'd accepted it. 

"I just wanted to help as much as I could. I didn't want to be deadweight, and I wanted Izzy to finish college," Jace continued. "I mean, you got two jobs, so I did what I had to to contribute." 

Alec sat up and took a fortifying breath. "Okay, how much do you owe? I'm sure if we focused, maybe saved a bit more and cut some things out, we can help pay it back." 

Already, he was mentally tallying up his savings. He'd squirreled away a tidy sum for school, but he could defer attending for a while, and reapply next year. And if he picked up some extra shifts at the deli and the hotel, he was sure they could make it work. 

Neither Isabelle nor Jace said anything, causing Alec to look back and forth between the two. "What? What is it? Is it that bad?" he finally asked. 

Jace rubbed the back of his head as his mouth lifted up into a sheepish curve. "It originally wasn't that bad, but I didn't realize the interest was so high." 

"How much?" 

Jace swallowed, the most nervous Alec had ever seen him. "Eight hundred." 

"That's not – " 

"Thousand." 

It took a lot to surprise Alec, but with the dollar figure Jace had provided, his jaw actually dropped. And had he not been sitting down, he was sure his legs would've given out. 

"Look, Alec, I know you don't want to, but we can go ask _them_ ," Isabelle supplied in a soft tone. 

Alec turned to her sharply, glaring. He didn't need to ask who she was referring to, but there was no way he would ever go back, not after … everything. No, he could deal with this. He would take care of everything. He always did. 

"Can we arrange a payment plan or something?" he asked instead, choosing to ignore Izzy's suggestion. 

"I tried. They want half within the week, and the rest, with more interest, before the end of the year. I've been making small payments, but when I didn't meet their minimum this month, they – " Again, Jace shared another brief look with Isabelle. "They sent someone after Izzy tonight." 

"What!" Alec turned his attention to his sister, furious, eyes scanning up and down to make sure she was unhurt. "Jace, I swear, if –" 

"I'm fine, Alec," Isabelle said calmly. A small smile flittered across her lips. "Those free campus self-defense classes came in handy. I didn't know who they were at first, but they mentioned Jace's name, so I called him and made him confess everything after I got away." 

"I'm so sorry, Izzy," Jace said, regret and sincerity evident in his tone. "I didn't mean for it to get this far. I thought I was helping out. I didn't think –" 

"No, you didn't think!" Alec blurted out, surprised at the anger in his own voice. "You never think! And because of you, Izzy could've been seriously hurt!" 

"Alec, stop." Isabelle stared at him with a level gaze, trying to calm him down from his rare display of emotion. "Jace was trying his best. We all are." 

Alec was still breathing heavily, even though he bit his tongue to prevent anymore regrettable words from escaping. He mentally counted to ten before standing up and rubbing his eyes. "Look, it's been a long day for all of us. Let's get some rest, and brainstorm some ideas tomorrow." 

Both Jace and Izzy nodded. Jace rose and headed to bed first. Izzy paused to give his arm a reassuring squeeze before following suit, leaving Alec alone with his thoughts. Living in the small, two-bedroom apartment, he shared a room with Jace, and right now, he wasn't in the state of mind to be around his brother. He walked the short distance to the window and stared out at the back alleyway below them. He could make out a slouched figure rifling through the nearby garbage bin, liquor bottle in hand. He watched the man give up on his task after a few minutes and slowly amble away, likely in search of the next bin. 

Alec closed his eyes and let out a breath. He tried to ease the tension that had built up in his muscles, but that was proving harder than he'd thought. He knew his anger from earlier was not directed at Jace. It was directed somewhere else entirely. Now that he was alone, he could stop lying to himself. It wasn't because of Jace that they were in this dilemma; it was because of him, and it killed him a little bit every single day. His siblings had done so much for him, had chosen him over everything else, and he would take ownership of that. He owed them that much. 

He reached into his pocket, and pulled out the hundred dollar bill and the business card he'd tucked in there earlier that night. He flipped the card over, and read the embossed words on the smooth surface: Magnus Bane, Bane Global Enterprises, CEO. 

Yes, he was responsible for their situation, so he was responsible for getting them out of it. And if that meant sacrificing whatever pride he had left, then so be it. 

(***) 

"I swear, Ragnor, we need to make it illegal to work on Fridays," Magnus exclaimed as he tossed his aviators and his car keys on the desk, and sat down heavily on the executive leather chair. 

"I'll get right on that," the older man deadpanned as he dropped a stack of folders in front of Magnus. "But until then, I need your signature on these contracts. After that, you're free to go and the rest of us can continue to live in this world of the abhorrent five-day work week." 

"Now you're just mocking me." Magnus eyed the size of the stack on the desk. "What did we do? Buy a small country or something?" 

"Or something." 

Magnus grabbed one of his Mont Blanc pens and loosened his shoulders a bit, preparing for a long session of signing. "Well, as long as you don't drive the company under, I'm game." 

"That's going to depend on you, isn't it?" Ragnor kept his tone neutral, but Magnus knew there was a challenge in the question. Sure, he tended to be a bit reckless and free with his public image, but that was no reason for his close friend to doubt him. 

The image of a handsome face with a shock of dark hair and hazel eyes popped into his mind. Oh, Ragnor was going to love hearing about what he'd done. "Well, as a matter of fact, my friend," Magnus noted almost boastfully, "I've just happened to meet a –" 

A knock cut him off. His office door eased opened and the blonde head of his assistant, Meredith, popped in. "Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Bane, but I have a Mr. Lightwood here to see you. I said he needed an appointment, but he's refusing to leave." 

"Who?" Magnus stared at Merry in confusion. 

"About yay tall, black hair." Merry raised a hand and added some visual aid to her description. Then, she lowered her voice, and with a conspiring wink, said, "Sexy, bedroom eyes, and handsome as hell." 

It occurred to Magnus just then that he hadn't even learned the name of the man he'd invited to be his temporary boyfriend. For that matter, he hadn't learned anything at all. He would have to fix that. Knowing if the person he had blindly offered a job to was serial killer or not was likely a good thing. 

"Send him in, Merry." Magnus pushed aside the contracts. Those could wait. This Mr. Lightwood, on the other hand … well, Magnus preferred not to wait. 

"I'll be back for those contracts later," Ragnor said, seeing his cue to leave. Before Magnus could tell him to stay and observe his friend's reaction to what he'd done, he'd already exited the office with Merry. One second later, Magnus' unexpected visitor marched purposefully into the room. There was a determined set to the man's features, and a stiffness in his posture that Magnus hadn't recalled seeing the night before. 

He stood up behind his desk, and extended a hand for a shake. "Mr. Lightwood, I'm –" 

Before Magnus knew what was happening, his visitor dropped the business card from last night onto his desk. That steady gaze locked with his own before the man stated plainly, "One million dollars, plus expenses and wardrobe. Half upfront now, and the rest to be paid upon services rendered." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Just wanted to share the second chapter of this story. I also wanted to say thank you so much for the wonderful comments left on the first chapter. I had planned to respond to each one personally, but thought a better way to express my gratitude would be to just finish the next chapter of this story (instead of a couple of other WIPs) and post it quickly. 
> 
> If you're at all interested in my personal ramblings on this chapter, feel free to pop onto my tumblr (https://kayefraser.tumblr.com/). If not, just skip right on into the story! And please accept my early apologies on the slower pace of this chapter: just a bit of character building so not too much edge-of-the-seat reading.
> 
> Cheers,  
> K.

_Rules of Engagement_  
_Chapter 2_

(***) 

Magnus dropped his hand, and kept his focus steady on the visitor. For all intents and purposes, this had somehow become a business negotiation, and like dangled prey in front of a starving predator, the corporate beast inside him was raring to engage. He gave his opponent another quick appraisal – from the scuffed up shoes to the casual wool jacket – and absently wondered if someone of this caliber was even aware of the rules by which he played. Yes or no, he would have fun finding out. 

"I don't think you get how this works, Mr. Lightwood," he said levelly. "You're not in any position to make the demands here." 

"Really? Could've fooled me when you checked me out at the party last night." 

Touché. Magnus felt a spark of admiration for the other man and the use of his own words against him. He still kept his expression neutral though. "Pretty faces are a dime a dozen, my friend. I can easily go out to a nightclub or bar, and hire anyone there for a fraction of the cost. In fact, I think some would do it for free." 

Those piercing hazel eyes remained fixed on him, and had Magnus been less experienced, less scarred by such intimidation tactics, he might've flinched. "But it's not just a pretty face you're looking for, is it? You needed someone stable and committed, you said. Something tells me that the crowds you hang out with don't exactly ooze those qualities." 

Magnus consciously eased his posture, smirking slightly to hide how much he was enjoying this. There was something to be said for projecting an air of confidence, or even borderline arrogance. "So you're presuming to know me now, Mr. Lightwood?" 

A muscle twitched on one side of the other man's jaw. Other than that, there was nothing else to give away what he was thinking. "You're Magnus Bane," he replied in a clear, matter-of-fact voice. "You've made Forbes' list of top thirty under thirty list four years straight, even though there's speculation you probably don't qualify for the list anymore given the mystery about your true age. You've been flagged by several business magazines as a CEO to watch in the next decade, and your company is projected to be a top earner in multiple international markets. But on the personal side, your name's been dragged through the gossip and social media sites so much that it's become synonymous with scandal. You've been caught with models, actors, and socialites, both male and female, and pictures of you have become a surefire way for the tabloids to increase readership. Did I miss anything?" 

"You forgot to mention how smoking hot I am," Magnus added snidely. He pulled his chair back, and sat down lazily. He didn't need to be in a physical position of power to demonstrate it. His nonchalant attitude was another weapon in his arsenal to throw the serious ones off their game. He leaned back casually with a dash of provocation in his eyes. "I see you've mastered Google, pretty boy. Am I supposed to be impressed?" 

"Depends. Is that a qualification for the job?" Until now, the man had been hard to read. But for a fleeting moment, Magnus saw a flash of … of something there. Nervousness, he guessed. Or perhaps vulnerability. But it passed so quickly that he didn't give it much thought. 

"Not since the last time I checked." Magnus smiled, genuinely amused. "Six hundred plus expenses, with one hundred upfront," he countered. The money didn't mean anything to him, but he wanted to see where the baiting would lead. 

The other man seemed to think of the offer for a few seconds, and although the smart thing to do was to take the very generous offer, a part of Magnus hoped he wouldn't. He wanted to prolong these negotiations just a little bit longer. 

"Nine hundred, with half up front," the man said after a pause. "And we can do a test run so you can see that I'm more than worth it." 

Magnus sat up, intrigued. This was an unexpected incentive. "Why, Mr. Lightwood, are you asking me on a date?" 

Despite Magnus' attempt at humor, his visitor appeared unaffected. As it was, the man stood even straighter, and squared his shoulders, all business. But Magnus could see behind the act. He knew the technique well, and had used it often in his youth: if one didn't feel confident, then tell the body to act confident, and the feeling would follow. 

"No, just part of the business transaction. You're paying a lot of money," the man answered. "It's only fair you don't pay blindly." 

Well, that was rather unromantic. Magnus wondered if this whole conversation might've made sense in some other convoluted universe – discussing the value of human relationship like one would discuss the extra features on a new car – but on the grand scale of things, he supposed this wasn't the worse thing he'd done. He leaned forward, and rested his forearms on his desk. "Okay," he said simply. 

"Okay?" For the first time, there were easily definable emotions displayed on the man's face. Surprise warred briefly with what looked like apprehension before being replaced by the sangfroid from earlier. "Okay," he repeated, firmer this time. 

Magnus picked up the pen he'd put down, and handed it as well as the business card back to his visitor. "Leave your number, and I'll text you the time and place for our 'test run'. I assume you're free tonight?" 

The other man hesitated just a fraction of a second before taking the pen and scribbling down his information on the card. "Y-yeah, tonight should work." He slid the items back when he was done. "And thanks." 

The man was a living juxtaposition: all seriousness and drive one moment, then sincerity and awkwardness the next. Magnus glanced down at the bold script written underneath his initial offer from last night. Alec Lightwood, he read. He liked it. It rather suited the man. "For giving you the world's most creative job interview? You're welcome." 

Now that he'd achieved part of his goal, Alec didn't seem to have the same assertive demeanor as when he'd first walked into the office. Instead of a quick retort, he inclined his head in acknowledgement. 

Magnus stood and held out his hand as he had earlier, only this time, Alec reciprocated, his grip strong as he shook it. "I look forward to our next meeting then, Alec," he added cordially, though he let a hint of challenge seep into his voice. He didn't see any harm in teasing Alec just a little longer. 

The man did a passable job at seeming unbothered by his veiled taunt. "Likewise," he said. "I'll see you tonight then, Mr. Bane." 

"Magnus. Call me Magnus. If we're going to pretend to be in a relationship, I believe first names would be a good start." 

Alec looked like he was about to protest for a second. Then, he nodded. "Magnus," he repeated, as if testing the name on his tongue. "I'll see you tonight." With that, he turned around and walked out of the office with quick, easy strides. 

Magnus waited two minutes before following the other man's path, heading to his door and popping his head out. "Merry, I need you to make a dinner reservation for tonight," he said cheerily to his assistant seated right outside. "For two," he added. And suddenly, for some reason, the next five months didn't seem as dreary or lonely as they had just twenty-four hours ago. 

(***) 

He was shaking. Alec looked down at his hands in disbelief as he took an empty seat on the train, opening and closing his fingers to stop the trembling. Holy shit, he was _really_ shaking. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such an onslaught of nervousness, anxiousness, and fear – yes, fear – when meeting with anyone. And it looked like his body was just expending all that pent-up emotion now. 

He hadn't known what to expect when he'd marched headlong into that office – an amazing feat unto itself. Armed with all the information he'd been able to find online last night about Magnus Bane, he'd been prepared to accept everything from outright rejection to immediate acceptance. What he hadn't been prepared for was to confront a confident, unpredictable, and somewhat feckless opponent who made Alec feel like an awkward adolescent again. How the man had managed such a commanding presence even when he'd acted so lackadaisical about the whole thing, Alec would never know, but he had had to remind himself several times during their exchange about why he was there and why he couldn't just walk away from the whole thing. 

The train rattled along loudly as it switched tracks. Alec took a peek at his phone. It was just past noon, which, since he had no shifts today, left him with most of the afternoon to run his routine errands. Now, however, he'd have to do them all with the prospect of the evening's so-called 'job interview' hanging over his head. He wasn't looking forward to it – being in Magnus Bane's presence inexplicably unsettled him – but this test run was the only other thing he could think of last minute to sway the decision. And he needed the other man to make the right choice if he was going to keep his siblings and himself out of trouble. 

By the time Alec arrived at his station and made it to street level, he was a ball of nervous energy. He had to consciously reassure himself that worrying would accomplish nothing, and instead focused on his to-do list for the day: a quick lunch, laundry, and groceries for the apartment. It wasn't glamorous by any means, but it needed to be done, mundane as everything was. 

His phone buzzed just as he started away from the station, and after taking a quick glance it, he froze. He didn’t recognize the sender's number, but he knew who it was from. And the words were on the screen, clear as day. The reality of his situation began to set in. 

'The 100 @ 7:30,' the text read. 

Alec swallowed. Damn, his mouth was dry all of sudden. 'Shit,' his inner voice screamed. 'Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit! What the fuck have you done, Alec?' 

He took a long steadying breath, and tried to calm himself down. It worked, to a lesser degree, enough that he quickly sent a message to Isabelle asking if she knew what and where The 100 was. 

Her response was almost immediate. In between several surprised and confused emojis, he learned that the meeting spot was some trendy restaurant on the Upper East Side. Instead of relief at knowing where he was going and what to expect, he felt the opposite. The logistics of this whole thing was definitely not something he could handle alone. With a resigned sigh, he messaged his sister back, this time asking for her help. 

(***) 

The 100 was the newest darling of the New York eatery scene, having been the subject of hundreds, if not thousands, of celebrity tweets and endorsements. It usually played host to a stream of rejected diners who hadn't made reservations months earlier, and tonight was no exception. Magnus parked half a block away, so he could walk to the restaurant and scope out the scene incognito. He had no doubt that he would see a familiar face or two, which worked out perfectly considering this was a testing ground for his so-called potential 'boyfriend'. 

A part of him was tickled at the prospect of seeing someone like Alec adapt to the flashy, high-flying clientele of the scene. There was the possibility the man might not show, that perhaps logic and second thoughts may have won the day, but if the focus and determination he'd seen that morning had been any indication, then Magnus was certainly in for an entertaining night. Indeed, before Magnus knew it, he found himself unconsciously searching the crowd for a head of messy dark hair as he neared the restaurant. And when he caught sight of Alec, he actually had to temper down a rush of eagerness. 

The throngs of people, rush of passing cars, and the bite of the early spring air didn't provide the best conditions for conversation, so after a quick greeting, Magnus gestured for them to head inside. Alec preceded him as they entered, and he noticed the man hung back a little so that it left no doubt that they were together. 

Nicely played, Magnus noted with approval, even though the closeness affected him in a completely unexpected manner. Perhaps it was the fresh, enticing scent, or the warm, reassuring presence of his companion, but Magnus was internally knocked off-kilter by the proximity, as if he was on a merry-go-round that had changed speeds and he was desperately trying to readjust his balance. It was a strange phenomenon, and a sensation he didn't recall ever experiencing. 

He had to admit, following Alec, that the man cleaned up nicely. After removing that wool coat, Magnus was impressed by the well-cut suit his companion wore. It may not have been one of the designer labels he favored, but the jacket and pants – especially the pants – hugged Alec in just the right way to highlight a lean, athletic build. 

They had to maneuver around the milling crowd in the entryway for a few seconds, but when the host caught sight of Magnus, they were quickly ushered to a table in the far corner of the restaurant. Wasting no time, Magnus ordered one of his favorite Lafitte-Rothschild reds, and settled in for what was going to be an interesting 'first date'. 

"Fancy place you chose," Alec said as he nodded his thanks to the server who'd just filled his wineglass. He tried not to be too obvious, but Magnus noticed the man's eyes discreetly taking in the décor. 

From the art deco light fixtures to the glossy marble and wood accents, Magnus understood how it could inspire some second glances, even though he'd never been too partial to it himself. "Don't like it?" 

"I didn't say that." Alec took a sip of his drink, those assessing hazel eyes never wavering above the rim. He did give the glass an appreciative glance though when he put it back down on the table. "Did you choose it to make it more difficult for me to impress you?" 

Magnus smiled self-deprecatingly. No games tonight, he decided. He didn't see any harm in telling the truth. "Not intentionally. More the other way around." 

Alec's eyes widened briefly in surprise. "Wait, you're trying to impress me?" 

Magnus leaned back in his chair, posture relaxed as he took a sip of his drink. He let the fruit and tannins linger a while on his tongue before answering. "So the instant service at a trendy restaurant with a lineup around the block, and the expensive wine we're drinking didn't clue you in?" 

A muted sound of disbelief escaped Alec as he let his attention wander to a neighboring table before returning to Magnus. "I'm deciding whether I should be insulted by your facetious tone or not," he stated. "But then again, I'm beginning to think that's a natural state for you." 

A corner of Magnus' mouth lifted up into a wry slant. "Now look who should be insulted?" he teased. His fingers played with the stem of his glass, twisting and turning it so that the dark red liquid inside sloshed about chaotically. "So tell me, Alec, what made you reconsider my offer?" 

"I thought that was obvious," the other man said steadily. "Money." 

The answer didn't surprise Magnus. Given how long and how hard he had struggled, he knew the value of a dollar and what it meant. He didn't begrudge others for thinking the same thing. "Fair enough, though you could've stroked my ego a bit and said it was because of my charming personality." 

"Charming is not exactly the word I'd use to describe you," Alec said as he leaned forward. 

An eyebrow rose in curiosity. Magnus was beginning to enjoy the other man's company. "And how would you describe me?" he prompted. "And keep in mind that you are technically interviewing for a job here." 

Alec gave him a small shrug, seeing through the banter and unconcerned about the warning. "I don't know. Confident, maybe overly so. Someone who's used to getting his own way." Alec paused, thinking for a few seconds before continuing. "Arrogant, cocky, ostentatious, a bit pretentious." 

"Woah, wait, what? Did you look up 'asshole' in the thesaurus or something?" Magnus held his hand up, pretending to be insulted. Despite his act, he didn't get to where he was without developing some thick skin, and he couldn't fully argue with the description. 

"Well, let's see, you decided to pick a fancy restaurant and order a fancy wine, things that are in your wheelhouse, and based on your judgement of my appearance, things that you assume are not in mine," Alec added reasonably, the lightness of his tone barely masking a more serious note. "You think you have home field advantage, and you're hoping to throw me off my game. So if all those are considered asshole moves, then yes, I agree, that's what you are." 

Magnus held steady at the observation. It was one thing to joke about the stuff he'd done and masking it behind a shallow façade, but when it was reflected back at him so bluntly, it was something else altogether: it was eye-opening. Until it was spoken out loud, Magnus hadn't realized what he'd been doing, and it was a blow to his pride that a near stranger had been able to see through all his bluster, if even inadvertently. Not having his usual teasing rebuttal, Magnus opted for a more honest approach. "So did it work? Throwing you off your game, I mean." 

"A bit." Alec looked away again at the admission, and took another sip of his drink. Frankness, it seemed, was infectious. "I'm a little out of my comfort zone right now, but I'm a fast learner." 

"Spoken like a true job seeker." 

Alec focused back on him just then, that stubborn set of his features – which Magnus was getting all too familiar with – at the forefront. "I wasn't joking you know about taking this job seriously. I've done research on your company, on your role and responsibilities … on you." 

Magnus couldn't stop his habitual, noncommittal half-smile from forming. It was his go-to default when things started to affect him, although he didn't understand why he cared if Alec had seen all those crazy stories and thought badly of him. "Don't believe everything you read." 

"I don't. It's what's not written I tend to pay attention to." 

The comment wiped the expression from Magnus' face. As naïve and awkward as Alec made himself out to be, he was more observant than Magnus had given him credit for. Luckily, he didn't have to respond. Their server interrupted just then, and Magnus was grateful for the interlude. 

Alec didn't miss a beat. He smiled politely, and ordered as if he'd tried every item on the menu and knew what was good. After that, he looked warmly over at Magnus. 

The casual gesture, likely done by couples everywhere, caught Magnus unawares. He realized it was all for appearances sake, but still, he was oddly … uncomfortable with it. He'd been in similar situations before, having dinner with men and women who chatted on endlessly about everything and anything, but never had any of them looked at him like that, faked or otherwise. He didn't like it. He quickly gave his order, and took another sip of wine. 

"Not bad," he finally said after mentally regrouping. "You handled ordering like a pro." 

"Thanks." There was a sparkle in Alec's eyes that Magnus couldn't quite place. "I've never seen veal striploin paired with sautéed oysters before, so I'm curious. Plus, I thought it'd go well with the wine." 

Alec Lightwood was a man of many layers, Magnus concluded. He was getting used to being surprised at different turns by his companion. 

"So, how is this going to work then?" Alec asked after a pause. "We fake a relationship for a few months, and then go our merry ways?" 

"That's the plan. I'm scheduled to visit several offshore offices in the next few months to attend some board meetings, and with that comes the whole social aspect. You won't believe how much business is done outside the office. Right now, as you've mentioned, the board doesn't hold me in very high regard, so this is my chance to change that. I just need you to play the attentive boyfriend, and just come along for the ride." 

"Not too attentive," Alec threw back quickly. "The position was for a boyfriend, not a prostitute," he added. 

Magnus tipped his head in agreement, although he was amused by Alec's almost reflexive clarification. He wasn't looking for anything beyond the superficial anyways. If Camille had been any indication, anything more would just cause complications he'd prefer not to deal with. "Correct. It's all for show, and nothing else." 

There was a barely perceptible relaxing of Alec's shoulders. And for one millisecond, Magnus was a little offended that the prospect of hooking up with him would cause anyone stress. Really, he considered himself quite a catch. 

"So why do you want to stay CEO so badly?" Alec watched him curiously as he took another sip of his wine. "You've got more money than most people see in a lifetime. You could hightail it to a tropical island and never come back. Hell, you could probably buy a tropical island." 

People rarely brought the subject up with Magnus. In fact, now that he thought about it, no one had ever asked him about his hands-on approach to his company outright. He didn't know if it was a testament to the types of people he hung around with, or his knack for keeping his life as superficial as possible, but he'd never given it any consideration. There was no artifice in Alec's tone, only genuine curiosity, which made Magnus want to answer honestly. Indeed, that's exactly what he did. "Because I want to," he said simply. "This company has been my vision for as long as I can remember. It was my way to make something of myself and to make my mark in the world. I built it from nothing, and piece by painstaking piece, I put a bit of my soul into every branch, every division that got created. I don't want to lose it. It's … me." 

"Then why the playboy reputation?" 

Magnus let out a tired breath, and met his companion's inquiring gaze briefly before watching dishes get served to a nearby table. "I don't know. By the time the company became the global media empire you see now, it was just easier to be who I had become than who I wanted to be." 

"And who do you want to be?" 

His mouth opened to reply, but no sound came out. He couldn't answer the question. He didn't know how. Magnus snapped his mouth shut, suddenly aware he'd revealed more in the last half hour to a man he'd known for only a day in than to anyone in his entire life. He wondered if Alec knew the ammunition he now had in his hands. 

Seeing his hesitation, Alec saved him from replying. "Well, I guess I can to help with that. It's what boyfriends do, right?" 

"I can add it to your job description." Sarcasm and flippancy, Magnus could handle. Truth be told, he wielded them like well-honed weapons. 

Alec followed suit, withdrawing from the personal questions that had become a bit heavier than either of them had been prepared for, and adding a bit of humor to his voice when he responded. "Gee, thanks, I'm just digging a deeper hole for myself here, aren't I?" 

"Don't worry. As long as you fulfill the 'Shut up and look pretty' requirement, I'm willing to overlook a few of the other things." 

Color flushed Alec's cheeks at his remark, and he smiled somewhat goofily, as if he was unsure how to react. Magnus chuckled at the expression, drawn in by the innocent charm of his companion. And for the first time since Ragnor had told him of his precarious position within the company, he was beginning to think that his outlandish plan might actually work. 

(***) 

The night could've been worse. Or so Alec told himself as they stepped out of the restaurant. The cool night air was a welcomed relief on his flushed skin, and he stuffed his hands in his pockets to hoard the warmth. Then, he remembered that Magnus was right behind him, so he pulled one hand out and interlocked it with that of his companion. After all, that's what boyfriends did, wasn't it? 

He felt the muscles tense briefly against his fingers, but they soon relaxed, and Alec watched as Magnus returned a look of – for lack of a better word – happiness toward him. Something fluttered inside his stomach, and he didn't think it had anything to do with the delicious veal he'd had for dinner. He only hoped that his palms didn't sweat enough that Magnus would notice. Shit, this was going to be harder than he'd thought. He knew that this was all for show, that nothing here was real, but that didn't stop the ten types of awkward he was feeling. He just hoped it all looked good on the outside. 

They walked in silence to the end of the block, their steps muffled by the constant thrum of vehicular and human traffic. Alec noticed a couple of stares thrown their way, and even though Magnus ignored them – or pretended to ignore them – he had no doubt that several people recognized the well-known businessman from the various gossip sites and tabloids out there. He just had to consciously remind himself to keep his cool and act natural, which was easier said than done considering every instinct screamed at him to get himself away from all the unwanted attention as fast as possible. This was his chance to prove he was worth the outrageous price he was asking for his services, and he couldn't blow it. 

"Where are you headed?" Magnus asked as they waited for the pedestrian lights to change. 

His voice jostled Alec from his own thoughts. He looked around at his surroundings, and oriented himself. "Just down another block to the subway station." Then, it suddenly occurred to him that someone like Magnus would likely not be taking the subway. He winced apologetically. "Sorry, I didn't think. You probably drove or have a driver, don't you?" 

Magnus shrugged off the apology. "Don't worry about it. I don't mind the walk. Besides, how else am I supposed to keep this boyish figure?" 

Alec laughed quietly, slowly getting accustomed to the off-the-cuff remarks the other man tended to make. That was one thing he'd noticed throughout the course of the night: Magnus deflected away from anything of a personal nature, and he deflected well with benign humor. The only lapse had been earlier that evening, before their food had come, when Alec had caught a glimpse of the man underneath. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to see it, but the tiny bit he did see only prompted more questions in his mind. For a man whose life had seemingly been posted online for all to see, he was still a complete mystery. 

"So, you realize there are people staring at you, right?" Alec noted out loud when the traffic light flipped and they started to cross the street. 

Magnus kept his expression unchanged, and kept his attention focused forward. "Not just me. You too, I think," he said casually. "Consider this the practical part of the interview. Let's see how well do you handle scrutiny from complete strangers?" 

Alec pursed his lips slightly. Not well, he wanted to say, but he knew it wouldn't help his situation if he just ducked into the next dark corner to evade the prying eyes. So, instead, he slowed his longer stride down to match Magnus' and lean in a bit to make it appear as if he wanted to speak more intimately into the other man's ear. "I don't like it, but I can handle it," he whispered. He was close enough to feel the heat radiate from Magnus' skin, to smell the spicy, clean scent of his aftershave, and suddenly, Alec wanted to move in closer – to feel more, to smell more. 

He wasn't sure exactly what happened next: one second, he was blinking, and the next, Magnus had turned his head and had captured his lips in a kiss. Startled by the sudden action, his eyes widened, and he started to pull away. But then, logic settled in, and he played along. The kiss wasn't one of the deep, fiery, all-consuming types that Hollywood glamorized and wrote unforgettable musical scores to, but it was pleasant enough to cause a shiver to run up Alec's spine and a warmth to settle in his chest. And that was a good thing, because as proficient as he was at pretending, he didn't have extensive experience in this area. He just hoped Magnus didn't notice. 

When the other man did finally pull away, Alec took a steadying breath, dazed. Somewhere along the way, his hands had ended up around Magnus' waist, and he could feel the firm muscle move beneath the expensive fabric of the jacket. 

"That'll be all over social media tomorrow," Magnus said breathily with a wicked twinkle in his eyes as he stared up at Alec. "We gave them something to talk about, for sure." 

It took a few seconds before Alec registered the other man's words. Right, people staring meant cell phones had been at the ready. Shit, what was he getting himself into, he wondered as he dropped his hands and pulled away. He hadn't fully considered the visibility this whole charade would bring him. "Yeah, right," he agreed softly. His eyes darted around to see if he could pinpoint any spectators, but it seemed that people were much pretty discreet when it came to spying in on others. 

"I think it's safe to say that I've made my decision, Mr. Lightwood." That teasing light had returned to Magnus gaze, and Alec wondered how he'd compartmentalized their pretend kiss so quickly. 

"Decision?" he repeated like an idiot. 

"I do believe you're hired," Magnus said with a self-satisfied smile. "I'll draw up a contract and have it couriered over to you tomorrow." And with that, he gave Alec another quick kiss on the lips and walked away with a fond smile on his face. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest thanks for your wonderful comments and kudos on the previous chapters! I don't know any other way to express my gratitude besides posting the next chapter as soon as time permits. So, thank you, thank you!
> 
> Cheers,  
> K.  
> (https://kayefraser.tumblr.com/)

_Rules of Engagement  
Chapter 3_

(***) 

"I asked you to do one thing, Magnus. Just one thing." 

Magnus cast a brief, sidelong glance over at his old friend before returning to his task of closing the manila envelope. Ragnor was on the warpath again – which seemed to be a natural state for the older man – and all anyone could do in this scenario was just to let the self-righteous rage run its course. Most of time, Ragnor tired himself out, and Magnus just went on his merry way. 

"And what, my dear friend, might that be?" Magnus asked airily when the man in question stomped up to the side of his desk. The late morning sunlight, cheerily filtering in from his full sized office windows, made Ragnor appear less intimidating than he really was. "I seem to recall you wanting me to do much more than 'just one thing'." 

Ragnor's scowl didn't waver at his lighthearted tone. In fact, the lines between the COO's brow deepened even more, an incredible feat given the man's usual surly mood. If Ragnor wasn't careful, he'd rupture a blood vessel, Magnus mused. 

"This!" Without thought for the equipment, Ragnor dropped the tablet he'd been carrying onto the hard surface of the desk. 

Magnus shifted over half a step to avoid the glare on the screen, and noticed a fuzzy picture come into view. The lighting was bad, and the features were slightly obscured, but there was no doubt that was him in the image – him and Alec, caught in the midst of their brief kiss. Magnus gave the photo a half-smile and a muted chuckle before slipping the envelope he had in hand into an inner jacket pocket. "Not exactly my best work, but at least they snapped it from my good side." 

"Are you serious?" Ragnor huffed as he closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

Magnus took a certain delight in irking his friend. It looked cruel to the outside observer, but he understood Ragnor well enough to know the man's limits. Besides, he had a feeling his old friend liked playing the solemn serious one next to his loose cannon self. "Deadly," Magnus returned with teasing lilt. 

"Sorry, but I must've misinterpreted our conversation Thursday night. I thought stable and reliable meant _not_ hooking up with the next random pretty piece of fluff that caught your fancy." 

For some reason, the choice of words bothered Magnus. "Alec's not a piece of fluff," he threw back, a bit harsher than he originally intended. 

Ragnor raised a skeptical eyebrow. That, and the hard set of his mouth reflected a silent form of judgement only he could pull off. "Then what is he?" 

"A business transaction." 

Ragnor blinked at his response. Then, he blinked again. "Bloody hell, Magnus, you've got to be joking! A prostit-" 

"Stop right there, Ragnor. Don't even finish that sentence." It didn't take long for Magnus to realize that Ragnor had misunderstood his words. True, he tended to speak in euphemisms at times, but there was no fucking way he'd let Ragnor insult Alec, even unknowingly. If calling his new fake boyfriend a piece of fluff bothered him, then calling him a prostitute was perilously close to pushing him over the edge. From what he'd seen, Alec was anything but. He took a moment to collect himself, though he didn't dwell on why he'd been so disturbed by it. "Alec and I are literally setting up a business arrangement, one where he will play my 'stable and reliable' boyfriend for the next five months. I've got his contract all ready to sign." He tapped the left side of his Dior jacket, where he'd tucked the envelope earlier. "Why else do you think I'm in here on a Saturday rifling through our legal department's templates? I had to draw up the thing myself." 

Magnus was sure that if Ragnor's jaw could drop, it would have. As it was, the man stared at him as if he'd grown another head. "Have you lost your mind, Magnus? If the board finds out…" 

"But they won't," Magnus interrupted as he walked around his friend. "Look, I know what you're thinking –" 

"No, no, I don't think you do," Ragnor said in an exasperated voice. 

"You think I'm being all irresponsible and am acting before I think again, but need I remind you that it has worked for me in the past, for the most part anyways. And can't you see that it's a perfect plan? I play nice for a few months with someone who'll be the perfect companion by my side, and the board will see that I can be a proper dedicated and loyal leader for this company." 

"But if they – " 

"And they won't find out," Magnus cut in as he took a few steps backward, away from his friend. "Not from me or Alec. I've written that provision into the contract. And I assume you'll keep quiet on the issue?" 

Ragnor looked like he wanted to object, which was nothing new. But Magnus trusted his old friend, had counted on him and relied on him numerous times in the past, and he knew he'd won the battle when the other man pursed his lips into a frustrated line and reapplied his habitual scowl. Magnus smiled victoriously as he made his way out the door. "I'll touch base with you later, Ragnor," he said in parting. "I'm off to secure myself a boyfriend." 

(***) 

Alec carefully placed his tray of empty glassware onto the counter and heaved a sigh of relief. Not wanting to make an extra trip, he'd piled on a few more dishes than he usually did when he'd cleared his assigned table, but the trip back to the kitchen had been somewhat perilous. It had only been through extreme care and a little bit of luck that he'd made it through the service corridors without dropping anything. 

"Is that it?" John, the shift supervisor, asked as he gave the dirty dishes an assessing glance. "The wedding reception winding down?" 

Alec nodded. "Yeah, they're about done. The toasts were finishing up when I left. A lot of guests for a brunch reception though." Behind John, he could see the dishwasher and sterilizer working full out, and understood why the man had asked the question. There was hardly any space for more. "Did you need any help in here?" 

John waved him off and started unloading the tray. "Nah, don't worry about it. Head back to the ballroom and start cleaning up. The Facilities guys should be there to tear down in about half an hour and set up for tonight's function. Once they're done, you can probably head out. Your shift should be over by then." 

"Thanks, John." Alec smiled gratefully and turned to leave. He'd only taken a few steps when John called out to him again. 

"Oh, and Alec?" 

He stopped, looked over his shoulder, and raised a questioning eyebrow. 

"It's been nice working with you," the man said. "I'll pass your resignation letter onto Sherry when she gets in." 

Alec's expression softened. "Yeah, thanks, and likewise. It was nice working with you too. See you around." 

John nodded and gave him a short, departing wave before he re-focused on sorting out the rest of the kitchen staff around him. Alec gave the whole operation – just a flurry of moving parts really – one last look before heading back toward the swinging doors. He'd been here for over a year, had learned quite a bit about the food service industry from the various chefs who had come through, but most importantly, he'd gotten to know a lot of people behind the magic, and he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't miss it. It was safe here, secure, and he knew what he was facing whenever he came into work each time. It was nothing like what he'd signed up for with Magnus Bane, and the uncertainty of what was before him there scared the shit out of him. 

The memory of their dinner last night flashed through his head, as it had at random times the last several hours, and as if on cue, that knot of apprehension and anxiety tightened in his stomach. What _was_ he getting into? It was certainly not something he wanted to do, especially given the unpredictable and arrogant nature of his new employer, but – but he didn't see any other way to get what he needed. 

"Did I hear that right, Lightwood? You're quitting?" Lydia ran up from behind him, slightly out of breath. 

"Hey, Lydia. Yeah, sorry, I forgot to mention it to you this morning," Alec said sheepishly as he slowed down his pace. "I – I got another job," he added, hoping his cheeks didn't look as warm as they felt when he hedged about the unconventional opportunity. If fate was kind, she wouldn't dig for any details. 

"Oh, congratulations. I'm happy for you." Although there was no change in Lydia's expression, Alec picked up on the note of sincerity in her voice. 

"Thanks." They continued in companionable silence down through the service corridor, and even though the interactions between the two of them had been strictly professional over the last year, Alec had to admit he was going to miss the easy respect they had for one another. 

After several minutes, they arrived back at the wedding reception and noticed that the number of guests had dwindled, some milling about the doors, but a majority had slowly made their way to the elevator lobby to file their way out. Alec caught sight of the bride and groom seemingly saying goodbye to the few remaining guests, and absently wondered what their story was to bring them to this point. He wasn't a sentimental person by any stretch of the imagination, and so, the idea of dedicating one's life to another seemed a bit illogical and irrational to him. Why would anyone in their right minds make themselves vulnerable like that, especially on a permanent basis? 

"Looks like we can start the clean-up," Lydia noted. "I'll start here, and you start in the lobby?" 

Alec squared his shoulders, ready and willing to work. "Sounds like a plan." 

With a nod of agreement from Lydia, they both went about their jobs. Alec skirted around the few remaining guests and grabbed an empty tray from one of the side tables as he made his way over to the lobby area. One thing experience had taught him was that milling patrons tended to leave dishes in the most unexpected places, so he wasn't going to be caught unprepared. 

"Hello, Alec." 

Alec stopped abruptly when he heard his name. Glancing over to the bank of elevators, he caught sight of a familiar figure dressed in tight-fitting purple jacket and slim black pants. The man was a marked contrast to the sunnily clothed wedding guests, and yet, somehow, seemed to totally own the room. He swallowed, his mouth inexplicably dry. 

"H-hi, Magnus," he managed, mind racing as it tried to figure out why the other man was here and whether his co-workers noticed his visitor or not. It wasn't as if he couldn't talk to personal visitors on shift, but for some reason, he felt as if being seen with Magnus would expose their unconventional arrangement, and that was not something he wanted. This was his real life, and whatever business he conducted with the supposed playboy … well, that was something else entirely. And he planned to keep the two things distinctly separate. "What brings you here?" 

"I needed to drop a couple of things off," the man said with a grace and ease that Alec envied. He reached into the inner jacket of his pocket and pulled out a folded-up envelope. "And since I didn't have your address or want to bother you at home, I thought I'd drop it off with the hotel. The concierge downstairs said that you might be working the function up here so I thought I'd just take a look. I got lucky." 

There was a devilish twinkle in Magnus' eyes that Alec doubted the man was even aware of, and he tried to take it in stride. "Thanks," he said coolly – or as coolly as he could given his strangely elevated heart rate. "What is it?" 

"That, my dear Alexander, is your contract. Instead of couriering it over, I thought I'd give our whole arrangement a more personal touch by delivering it myself. Give it a good read, ask any questions you need, and sign it when you're ready. After that, I'll transfer your down payment." 

The fact that Magnus had called him by his full name struck a chord – an unexpectedly pleasant one – within him. Only his parents had ever called him that, back when he used to take the blame for things his younger siblings had done, and he hadn't heard it in a very long time. But the way it had rolled off of Magnus' tongue – softly, liltingly, warmly – he was momentarily stunned by it. Then, the meaning of the rest of the words sunk in. 

"Contract?" He stared at the offered envelope as if it was some sort of undiscovered species of insect that would sting him. Then, common sense took over and he reached out to take it. Of course, it was a contract. They'd discussed this whole thing yesterday. "Thanks," he said again. 

"There's also a credit card in there. That was the deal, I believe," Magnus added. "Expenses included, as we agreed. There's no limit on the card, but do use some discretion." 

Alec nodded, and slowly tucked the envelope into his back pocket. Shit, this was really happening, and it was happening fast. "Thank you," he repeated again. Good Lord, he sounded like an idiot with only a handful of words in his vocabulary. It was a wonder why Magnus didn't laugh in his face and call the whole thing off. "I'll take a look. But I – I should really be getting back to work. It's my last day and all, so I should probably leave on a good note." 

"Of course," Magnus said, looking around at the dissipating crowd with a relaxed smile. Alec wondered how the man did that – how he always seemed so comfortable in his own skin, how he practically owned the space he was in as if it was the easiest feat in the world. Perhaps one day, Alec would get to that level, but right now, he just wanted to get on with his job for fear someone saw him talking to his visitor. 

Magnus started to leave but stopped. "Oh, wait, one more thing. You busy tonight?" 

Alec hoped this wasn't a trick question. "Not that I know of. Why?" 

"The last caveat of our agreement. We need to get you the appropriate wardrobe, and we need to do it in record time. We've got five days before we head out, so that'll limit the custom tailoring choices. How about you text me your address, and I'll pick you up tonight around seven to get that all done?" 

Again, all Alec could do was nod. After all the effort he'd put into this whole situation yesterday, everything Magnus was saying seemed a bit surreal. 

"Great. And how's your passport situation?" 

"Well, I've got one, if that's what you're asking." Alec was quite proud that his voice was steadier than he was feeling. 

Magnus' expression brightened, and as had happened before, something fluttered inside Alec's stomach. "Okay, then we're pretty much set. I'll see you tonight." 

"Yeah, see you," Alec replied automatically. His grip tightened on the tray he still had in hand, using its solidness to remind himself that all this was actually real. Belatedly, he remembered to infuse a bit of fondness into his eyes as he had the previous night. If this was truly happening, then he'd better hold up his end of the bargain. Magnus paused for a moment at the gesture before returning the look in kind and walking away. 

"So who was that?" 

Alec looked to his right as Lydia approached, arms full and face curious. Thinking fast, he shrugged and casually said, "My boyfriend." And before Lydia could respond, he moved toward a bank of seats along the wall, silently marveling at how easily that lie had come out. 

(***) 

"Alec!" 

Alec froze in the entryway, his keys still stuck in the lock. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Without looking over, he knew Isabelle was glaring at him in that unnerving way of hers that never failed to make him feel like a five year old, an astonishing feat considering he was the older sibling. 

"A job interview, huh, big brother?" Izzy continued. "They sure are different than what I imagined." 

Shoring up his courage, Alec pulled his keys out, closed the door, and stepped into their small apartment. He wasn't sure how much he wanted to reveal to his siblings yet, and so hadn't had a chance to come up with a plausible story yet. His sister stood there though, just a few feet away behind their secondhand sofa, patiently waiting for a response. "I don't know what you mean, Izzy," he hedged, and tried to avoid eye contact as he took off his jacket, careful to keep the contract hidden in its folds. 

"Oh, I think you do, brother mine." She held up her phone in his direct line of sight so that he couldn't miss that telling picture of Magnus and him from last night. "There I was, just scrolling through my feed when _this_ pops up. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but that looks like you in this picture with _the_ Magnus Bane. And in the outfit I helped you pick out yesterday!" 

A million different excuses and explanations filtered through Alec's brain just then, ranging from the truth about him entering into a strange arrangement with Magnus to the completely absurd, like him accidentally tripping and falling against a stranger's mouth. He settled for something in between. He hated lying to his siblings, but he didn't want them shouldering any guilt for the situation he'd landed them in. That was on him and him alone. 

"You're not wrong," he started. 

Izzy raised her eyebrows, silently prompting him to go on. 

"We're sort of seeing each other," he managed to say, and closed the few short steps between them to join her in the living room. "I met him a couple of days ago at the hotel where his company was having a party. And it just went from there." 

Isabelle looked at him as if he was some alien she'd never seen before. "Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" She sat down on the couch, barely leashed excitement brightening her face. "Why didn't you say something earlier? And why did you say you had an interview? I would've styled you differently if I'd known you were seeing Magnus Bane!" 

Alec followed suit and plopped down as well, slightly uncomfortable with the interrogation. "I don't know, Izzy. I was embarrassed, I guess." Which wasn't too far from the truth, he supposed. 

And Izzy seemed to buy it when she gave him a playful slap on the arm. "Well, don't lie to me again! Now, tell me everything! Where did you guys go yesterday? What did you do?" 

If Alec was the type to squirm, he would've in that moment. This sort of stuff – this chatting and openly sharing one's feelings – wasn't something he did on a normal basis, but given the fact that he was technically lying … well, that made it doubly difficult. "Nothing exciting. We just went for dinner, and then a short walk. That's it." 

"Which restaurant? What did you have? Come on, Alec, details!" 

"I don't see how that's relevant," he protested. 

Izzy rolled her eyes at his evasion. "I'm not putting you on trial here, Alec. I'm genuinely interested in the happiness of my big brother. Is that so wrong?" 

Alec's attitude warmed at Isabelle's words. He did sincerely love his siblings, annoying as they were at times, and he knew they had his back too. It was just that describing the recent events and decisions – and Magnus – was … difficult. 

"Well?" 

"The 100. We went to The 100, and we – " 

"Wait, you went where?" Isabelle's eyes widened with disbelief. "Geez, you know how many people would give a kidney to get a reservation there!" 

Alec shrugged, not fully understanding Izzy's awe of the place. Yes, it had been a nice restaurant, but if it had been up to him, he would've tweaked a few things on the menu. "Yeah, it was good," he ended up saying. 

"Good? Just good? Oh, my God, Alec, I hope you didn't embarrass yourself by – " 

His phone cut her off with a buzz. Alec pulled it out of his back pocket to avoid hearing the rest of her sentence. Why his sibling thought he didn't know how to handle himself in certain situations astounded him. He knew; he just didn't like it. There was a difference. He glanced down at his phone, and read the short message from a familiar name. 

_'Address?'_

"Is that him? Magnus, I mean," Izzy asked. 

"Yeah, but it can wait," Alec answered breezily as he tucked his phone away. 

"No, don't wait. Now is not the time to play hard to get, big brother." Isabelle stood up quickly, and jostled Alec a bit. "Look, I've got coffee with some friends in a half hour, so I should probably get going. But that leaves you to text with your new significant other in privacy, so take advantage of it!" Her ensuing smile was wide and cheery. "Oh, I'm so proud of you, Alec!" she squealed as she walked around him and bustled away. 

Alec sat back and managed a small – if slightly forced – smile of his own as she left. He didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until he heard the door click close, and a lungful of air left his lungs. Maintaining a certain façade shouldn't be difficult for him, not after all the practice he'd had, but this was the first time he'd done it to his sister. And it had not been pleasant at all. 

His phone vibrated again, and he pulled it out, half-expecting to see another message from Magnus. But it wasn't. It was an actual phone call, and the name displayed on it was one that Alec always looked forward to. He pushed up off the couch, strode quickly to his room, and closed the door before tapping the 'Accept' button on his phone. 

He smiled as he answered. "Hi, Max …" 

(***) 

"How do you feel about purple?" 

Alec shot Magnus a deadly look that warned of potential homicidal intentions. No words were needed. Magnus backed off with an amused smirk. 

"Fine. We'll stick with the boring neutrals: black, blue, and gray. So the usual, a couple of sport jackets, and suits. We'll also need a couple of formals as well. Stick with a European cut because that looks best on him. Oh, and maybe throw green in there. I think that'll go well with his eyes. Now, as for fabrics … " 

Alec silently breathed a sigh of relief as Magnus turned to the tailor and spouted off instructions he could care less about. The attention was off him, and for now, that was enough. Magnus had picked him up at seven o'clock sharp, as promised, and from there, it had been a whirlwind of shop after unending shop. All the tailors and boutiques had looked the same to him, and while it had felt like they'd visited at least a dozen different ones, a glance at his watch told him that only two hours had passed and they'd only likely visited less than three or four places. The owners, or managers, or whoever these people were at the shops, seemed to know Magnus well, so much so that they went out of their way to accommodate his schedule and promise delivery by deadlines that even Alec knew was difficult to meet. 

"Sound good to you, Alec?" 

Alec looked over, clueless as to what had been said. Still, he nodded in agreement. "Yeah," he said simply and let his eyes wander back over the sample fabrics and spotlighted accessories along the walls. If what he'd seen of Magnus' wardrobe was any indication, the other man's fashion sense was light years beyond his own, so he would have to rely on his fake boyfriend for this part of their charade. Obviously, he hadn't thought the whole wardrobe clause of their contract through when he'd thrown that bit in. 

After another fifteen minutes – or it could've been five minutes, Alec wasn't sure – of ironing out the delivery logistics, they finally left the small boutique shop with a couple of bags in hand as well as assurances from Bruno, the tailor, that the rest would be ready in a few days. 

Alec looked down at the bag his was carrying, a fancy looking thing with gold embossed lettering that likely cost more than the shirt he had on. He didn't recall ties and cufflinks being this heavy. "Did we really need all this stuff?" he asked as they stepped down onto the sidewalk and started walking toward Magnus' car. "Didn't we already buy enough from the other two places we went to?" 

"Never underestimate the power of accessorizing properly, Alec. You'd be surprised what a difference a nice pocket square makes. It leaves for an impression," Magnus stated with authority, even though there was a teasing light in his eyes. "Besides, all the places we've visited happen to be some of the best tailors you'll find away from Saville Row. You're the one who threw the wardrobe caveat into our agreement, so you might as well reap the rewards." 

Alec couldn't come up with an intelligent retort for that, so he kept his mouth shut. He was a man who liked to anticipate actions and plan ahead when things happened. He hated being caught unaware, and Magnus' logic only drove that fact home. 

"You know, you're kind of cute when you pout." 

Alec glared at his companion. "I don't pout, and I sure as hell am not 'cute'." 

"No, of course, you're not," Magnus replied in a small, soothing voice, like the tone a person would use for a small child. "Sorry, my bad. 'Pout' and 'cute' are reserved for kids under twelve and since you look like you're well above that, I believe the words I should've used instead were 'broody' and 'manly', even though they're – " 

Magnus stopped mid-stride and mid-sentence, which caused Alec to look over in confusion. Oddly enough, he'd gotten used to hearing the flippant remarks the other man had a tendency to throw around, and he was getting better at responding to them. 

"Hello, Magnus." 

Magnus' eyes narrowed at the sultry voice, and Alec looked up ahead to see a familiar figure approached them. He mentally braced himself, not looking forward to the awkward confrontation that was about to occur. 

"Hello, Camille," Magnus returned in a tone much colder and harder than the one he'd just been using. In fact, Alec could've sworn the air temperature dropped a few degrees. 

Camille smiled, her perfectly lined red lips mimicking a gesture that was supposed to be warm, but instead, was empty of emotion. "What a coincidence bumping you here." Her eyes drifted over to Alec briefly, appraising him in one quick glance, before they refocused on Magnus. Whatever her thoughts on Alec's presence were well hidden beneath her immaculately put-together façade. 

"Oh, I don't know if I'd call it a coincidence, Camille. I would call it more of an oversight on my part for not deleting that tracker app you put on my phone. I'll have to fix that right away." 

"What? Are you accusing me of following you, Magnus? Do I look that desperate?" 

"Not desperate, my dear. More along the lines of vengeful. I would think it's been a while since someone has actually dumped you." 

"Please, I have no time for such nonsense. Don't flatter yourself, Magnus." 

Alec looked back and forth between the two as they flung insults at each other as easily as people exchanged small talk. Never had he seen such veiled animosity delivered in such mildly civil tones. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, internally debating whether to step in or not. Somehow, his instincts warned him that he'd be stepping into something that was well out of his league. 

"If I were you, Magnus, I'd be careful what you say to me. Because when you get bored of your current toy, you'll come back to me. That's how it works with you." 

"I don't think so, Camille. Not this time," Magnus scoffed. 

"Oh, I beg to differ. You'll come back. You always do. And do you know why?" Camille's knowing expression sent a shiver down Alec's spine. She stepped closer to Magnus, her stiletto heels making her seem more imposing than her diminutive height suggested. "Because deep down, you don’t think you deserve any better. The clothes, the cars, the parties, the money, it's all a mask for you – smoke and mirrors that hide all the sordidness underneath. But you know who you truly are, and you also know that I'm the only one who understands it." 

Alec could see Magnus's fists clench and unclench at Camille's words. His jaw tightened, as if he wanted to say something but was consciously stopping himself. After several tense-filled seconds, Magnus finally spoke. "Have a good evening, Camille," he said in a completely neutral voice. And with that, he stepped around her and walked away. 

Alec followed, not wanting to spend any more time in Camille's presence than was required. Grateful to be away from that self-satisfied expression on the woman's face, he focused on the straight back and squared shoulders of his shopping companion for the next block. His strides were slightly longer than Magnus', and he could've easily caught up with the man, but he sensed that Magnus didn't want to be bothered at that moment, and so, kept a safe distance away. 

By the time they made it to the car – an AMG roadster that Alec had only ever seen in car magazines – the silence from the usually talkative man was beginning to make Alec uneasy. Magnus unlocked the doors, and Alec quickly slid into the passenger side, the shopping bags settling in between his legs as he sank into the soft leather seat. He counted to ten as he waited for Magnus to start the car, but when the other man didn't move, he asked, "You okay?" 

Magnus remained still, sitting back in his seat and his gaze focused ahead. The orange glow of the street lights from outside played artfully along the planes of his face, giving him a somewhat fanciful air. "Yeah, I'm fine," he answered levelly. 

These weren't situations Alec was particularly comfortable with. Isabelle would know exactly what to say and what to do right now. But him? Not so much. He leaned back, feeling at a loss. After several possible questions and phrases passed through his brain, he settled on one. "Did you ever love her?" 

Magnus blinked a few times, his face – or the side profile that Alec could see – going from blank to almost thoughtful. "I thought I did … once," he said softly. He sat up straighter, and the brief flashes of vulnerability and uncertainty that Alec had caught under the dappled street lights disappeared, replaced by the usual nonchalant mask of the man he'd come to know. "Can you do me a favor, Alec?" 

"What is it?" 

"Let's pretend that meeting never happened, okay?" 

Alec stared at his companion for a moment, watching the man compartmentalize and brush away the unpleasant conversation into the recesses of his brain as if it'd never happened. It was definitely odd observing that action from the other side, he mused. Despite all appearances, perhaps they were more alike than he'd originally thought. 

' _... it was just easier to pretend to be who I had become than who I wanted to be._ ' 

Alec remembered the other man's words from the previous night, and he was starting to understand the real meaning behind them. He inclined head in agreement. "Sure. You got it, Magnus." 

Magnus smiled gratefully, but now with a bit more insight, Alec could see a fragility in the look. "Thanks." Then, without another word, Magnus started the car, and they drove off in silence. 


End file.
